Second Shift
by NeoVenus22
Summary: Superheroism does not pay the bills. Warren/Layla/Will. Complete.


Warren/Layla/Will. Note: this is set in my "Coalition of the Righteous" universe, where the gang of six from the movie have formed a team, and Warren is living with Layla and Will.

Disclaimer: no one mentioned belongs to me.

* * *

Steve Stronghold had been on Will's case for the past three weeks about marrying Layla. "I just think it's time you settled down, son," waxed the Commander over a cup of office coffee. "You can't live with your friends forever, you know. And doesn't having that Peace boy around cramp your... style?" He cast a sideways glance at Josie's desk to see if she was listening. "I don't mean to suggest that you _should_, or anything, but I understand if you _do_..." He coughed, raised his voice slightly. "I'm just saying, Will, I was your age when I married your mom."

"Dad!" Will rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to save the world and sell real estate. I'm not ready to be thinking about marriage yet."

"But it _will_ be with Layla, won't it?" The Commander looked a bit concerned. "Hero-hero families have a far greater chance of producing hero offspring, you understand. And with the Williams legacy firmly established..."

"Steve," said Josie, finally cutting in. She slung an arm around Will's shoulders and steered him away from his father. "Don't listen to him, Will," she said softly. "You'll do things on your own time. Just like you got your powers on your own time. Your father... well, you know what he's like. He wants everything to follow a set plan. And you and the Coalition..."

"Yeah, I know."

"He's just upset that you six have been the headline story three crises running. He's worried you'll beat his record."

"And Layla?"

Josie kissed his forehead, much to Will's chagrin. He was a freaking grown-up, evidenced by the fact she had to use her powers to actually reach forehead level. "Layla's wonderful, sweetheart. And you know, Warren's not too bad, either." She looked at him meaningfully, and Will found himself unable to meet his mother's gaze.

He was saved by the bell, though, or rather, by the jangly tune on his cell phone. The "Righteous ringtone," Zach had called it, their version of the Bat signal, only far more useful and actually real. "I'm sorry, Mom, I've gotta get this," he said, flashing the phone at her.

"Go ahead. Kick some butt."

Will raced for the door. "If I'm not back by one, I'm showing the Oldfield residence; could you cover for me? Thanks, Mom!" And he was gone.

* * *

Warren was pretty sure Ramke was actually evil. Not a supervillain, Warren had always been very careful at distinguishing the two, but just plain evil. The guy ran a record store, but didn't listen to any of the music contained within, and showed no signs of ever starting. He hated his wares, he hated his customers, and he really hated Warren.

Warren figured it in part had something to do with his surly attitude. That, and the fact he would periodically disappear for hours at a time with no warning. He tried to schedule his shifts when the assistant manager was working, but it wasn't always easy.

"Do you have any Lantean?"

Warren rolled his eyes at nothing particular. Pop garbage, Magenta liked them, but he wasn't supposed to antagonize the customers. Five strikes and he was out.

"Pop rock," he said, pointing. "It's all alphabetical."

"Thanks," said the perky girl, batting her eyes at him. As if he cared. As if he would waste his time with someone who listened to that crap.

"She was cute, dude," Ryan observed. He'd crossed out half of his shiny badge so it now read 'Ass Man'. "You gonna try? If you don't, I will."

"Welcome to it," said Warren. Ryan wasn't a bad guy. He was sort of like the idiot, but in a less idiotic way. If Will knew, he'd never hear the end of it.

"You look like a rocker, War," Ryan said, drumming a pencil on top of the register. "You should work it, get some tail. You got a girlfriend?"

"Don't want one," said Warren. He'd tried that, in high school, with Alli. More trouble than it had been worth, really. He was better off now. Happier, even, if he was going to admit to that sort of thing.

"You know, dude, you should-"

Ryan didn't get to finish, though. Ramke's policy was that employee cell phones were on vibrate or silent or flat-out off, but ignoring that rule was more trouble than it was worth. The idiot's ridiculous ringtone bleeped at him. "I gotta take this," he said, flashing his phone at his coworker. "Cover for me?"

Ryan eyed the cute girl over in the pop rock section. "Whatever, dude. Take your time."

* * *

Layla hummed as she watered the planets in the greenhouse. These were the ones she especially liked, the ferns and the seedlings who weren't bred for destruction. She would never admit, not even to the boys, that she might have abused her powers a few times to make the potted plants look far more lush than the 'I'm sorry I cheated on you' hothouse bouquets.

"Layla, Amber just called," said Mrs. Perkins, sticking her head in. "She doesn't think she'll be making it in."

"Oh no, is she all right?"

"Touch of a cold, it sounded like," the florist said, shaking her head. "Bad timing, though, I have a good dozen deliveries to make and Wojtek is covering the Ramirez wedding."

"Do you need me to deliver, Mrs. Perkins?" asked Layla, brushing soil off her pants. She usually came home dirty, which drove Warren crazy. Their foyer was sometimes a mess, but a little dirt had never hurt anyone. "Unless it's in the hands of the Shrinking Violet," Will always said, smirking.

Mrs. Perkins sagged with relief that she didn't have to ask. "If you wouldn't mind."

"Not at all. These little things will be fine while I'm out." She patted the side of a planter.

"More than, I'd imagine. You have a gift, Layla. The plants really respond to you."

Layla shrugged, blushing. Will and Warren had warned her about taking a job that reflected her powers, but she'd taken one look at the florist's shop, managing to hold business despite the bigger name operations slowly taking over, and had wanted to work there desperately. So far, it was proving to be a great opportunity, and she'd learned a lot about business in the process.

Although she was indispensable in the greenhouse, Layla tried to switch with Amber for driving duties whenever possible. Crime didn't quit, and it was easier to disappear for hours at a time when there wasn't anyone around to watch.

Mrs. Perkins helped Layla load up the truck, then sent her on the way. Layla was just depositing the first batch of roses to an enthusiastic recipient when her alarm went off. She glanced at the horizon and thought she saw a robot arm peeking over the top of the watchtower.

Swallowing a sigh, Layla locked up the truck and answered the call.


End file.
